The now allied old-enemy journey south to Breged, where they will form the holy Triad.
Ten cornwrs began to blow the advance together and they had clearly
practised this harmonising rendition, as the allied armies of Galedon and
Albion stepped forwards to glorious music moving ponderously south. They headed
toward the hazy southern hills in the distance and to Treflan Hoyg, where they
could water the horses in the Afon Gribo at this hamlet, before taking the pass
through the Ceunant Gribo at noon and
this wide canyon passage, would lead them south-west. A day’s hard riding brought
them through this densely wooded valley, which was bejewelled now with one or
two golden-yellow and orange leaves among the vivid green. It led them to the
Tref and minor fort of DunLlawer and here they camped for the night to rest
their horses. The land for miles around was filled with their camp fires, which
warmed and fed these thousands of warriors as they too rested. Many border
farmers and crofters had turned out to gawp at this multitude but the more
ambitious amongst them passed through the seemingly endless camps, offering
their wares to the myriad different warriors. These ranged from nuts to fruit, fresh
milk and cheese, gloves, purses and leather belts and all the many other useful
things people produced around these parts.
The following sunrise and just
after the birds had burst into joyous song, this huge, dual mass of warriors
arose and pushed on through this awakening forest, south to the border town of
Tref Rhoslwyd, where at a shallow bend of the Afon Isca, they watered their
animals again before crossing over into the vast federation of Breged. The
sacred Isca here formed part of the border between Albion and Breged and
Arglwydd Linn Belenos herself glittered in majesty to their right in sunlight,
below the distant western horizon and the blue sky above it. There was no ghost
fence between these two federation Kingdoms, as they had declared peace between
themselves recently and were sworn to an alliance of their own. Even in times
of official tension between these two northern Kingdoms, the citizens of both
Albion and Breged had enjoyed some level of movement and trade over this
region, especially at these outlying borderlands where the bloodlines had
become blurred over time and it had come to strengthen the alliance, deepening
the bond between these two neighbouring peoples.
There was an honour-guard waiting
for them at this border on the Bregedian side of the river, along with their
own cabal of Druids, who held their arms wide and made their supplications to
the Gods as the host entered the cold flowing waters of the sacred Isca. Once
over the river border, they cleared the dense southern end of the great forest
of Albion, picking-up the wide southern approaches to Breged. Led by their Cludwr y Lluman; the two horsemen now carrying both Albion’s and
Galedon’s banners, the host travelled down this broad approach road to the
enormous and commanding fortress ahead, suddenly lit by Bel as he escaped the
clutches of a ragged, clinging cloud.
Ahead of them lay infamous CaerLiwelyd,
the magnificent stone-built Carfetan Dun of such venerable age and unbelievable
legend. It was suddenly illuminated by this blaze of glorious sunlight, as if
by the God Bel himself as a warning. The ancient stone walls of this ferocious
military Capital were topped on all sides by its pointed, heavily towered
palisade and surrounded by its deep double ditches, the vast fortress looked
insurmountable. CaerLiwelyd was locked-up and silent however, as the Carfetan
host were already at Bellnor’s CaerUswer awaiting them. They swept past the
huge and towering fortress, raising such a dust cloud, the fortress was
enveloped and obscured for many hours, no-doubt to the vexation of its
notoriously dangerous inhabitants. With the soaring citadel behind them, the
vanguard entered a valley-like plain of rich farmland known as Cwm Itun and its
fields were full of almost ripe corn. To the west stood a hilltop fortress
called DunEithyn flying the eagle-banner of Breged and behind which, reared the
wet craggy heights of Ardal y Llynnoedd. As far as the eye could see, the crop fields
of Cwm Itun were bordered with sun-splashed gorse bushes and long hedgerows of
the same, delineated each farmer’s field and their golden bursts of joy were
bright in the eye.
The Afon Itun flows north
peculiarly to CaerLiwelyd, from its source in the snowy heights of Bryn Bedd
and Cadair Huw, the head of a holy triad of Prydein’s rivers that of Afon Itun,
Ympryd and Uswer and its triple Goddess aspect is much revered by all Brythons.
This high and holy triple confluence has always seen the most dedicated and
regular offerings to the Gods, but most especially to Bel’s Queen and the
Goddess of water; Arglwydd Sulis. This was especially important at Lughnas,
when the locals feel compelled to hazard their lives in climbing these
mountains and make offering to her there. To the South is the densely forested
valley of Cwm Llwyfen, where the sacred elms grow in profusion and to where
this host was now heading; upriver.
Soon the bread-basket of Carfeta
glowed in morning sunshine below them, and their fields were bursting with
growing food. Circumventing this ocean of swaying, golden wheat and led by the
two bannermen, the allied army wheeled to their left then for ten miles before
turning south once more to skirt the great northern mountain range of Pen Nain,
rearing to their east in her ancient majesty. Pushing south along this broad
and beautiful valley between these two hilly regions, they find the wide-open
mouth to the eastern pass known as Bwlch Belenos, which cuts through the
mountain range at CaerDroia, a high and secure Carfetan Dun which controls the
western end of the mountain pass and here they leave glorious Cum Itun, by
passing through the mountain pass to DunArth.
DunArth is a small Dun of the House
of Lupocara still clinging to its ancient traditions but which commands this
eastern coastal region of northern Breged, where its people are known for their
excellent boat building. Near one coastal Treflan here is the only known place
where sacred Jet can be found, that strange, soft and ancient stone of purest
black so loved by the Druids. The dual host then continued south to the
northern edge of the great Plain of Belenos into Breganta and down through a
wide green corridor of more bounteous farmland, toward King Bellnor’s Capital
fortress in Fro Uswer, where the holy triadic blood-oath will be sworn the
following night.
In the preceding days, the hunters
of Breganta too had been busy clearing the surrounding forests of game to feed
this great host but these forests were now being forcibly repopulated, as an
uncountable number of animals fled south to escape the oncoming horde. Nets had
been strung across trees to capitalise on this phenomenon, as the hunters of
Brigida were known to be a clever people. The food will be sorely needed as it will soon seem as
though all of northern Prydein is arriving in Breged.
The celebration at the arrival on the great plain of Fro
Uswer of this monstrous twin-army, was equally welcoming and as noisy as the
prior one in Albion, as it seemed all Breged had turned out to welcome this
famous and awe-inspiring host of northern warriors, who had toiled their way
south to make their sacred alliance here. Bellnor’s vast and towering hilltop
fortress of CaerUswer was a palisaded monstrosity, with a huge and square tower
at each corner and two further sub-towers in each outer facing wall. It was thought to sit at the very heart of
Prydein itself and the broad and impressive ramp which rolled down from its
enormous gates, looked like a grey paved tongue emerging from the dark mouth of
the Caer.
This high black bastion which barred their way dominated Fro
Uswer, almost centrally and in a wide accommodating bend in the much worshipped
Afon Uswer, where its huge timber bridge controlled the main road crossing. All
these visitor’s eyes were drawn upwards from this impressive toll-bridge
however, to its age-blackened and blood-washed palisade in awe, framed and hued
so beautifully as it was by Bel, sliding into sunset behind the western hills
of Nudd. Hundreds of chariots charged around the turf of Fro Uswer in
ostentatious display, wheeling tightly into much-practiced swirling formations,
with their warrior passengers whooping and brandishing their long-swords in
salute. As drums banged and horns blew, rank upon rank of immaculate cavalry
officers and their magnificent horses trotted into two crescents, one forming
before the high moorland of Rhôs y Gogledd, darkening the sky of the distant
north-east. The other crescent of horsemen framed the host before the stark
outline of Nudd’s hills to the west, and the glow of the late, blood-orange sky
behind them was a memorable backdrop. More serried ranks of shield-locked
spearmen poured forth to form the primary crescent of defence and the dozens of
mounted royals, Gŵyrd and nobles of Breganta along with their vassals, stood
imperiously behind them.
A long note vibrated through the air at their arrival and a
Carfetan cornwr blew one of their huge Auroch battle-horns, which was abruptly
joined by the lamentable and deep bass lowing of a dozen chariot-borne Carnyx,
with their tall necks and grotesque, beastly faces. This haunting sound filled
the summer evening air, as the two armies approached the monstrous palisaded
citadel ahead of them. CaerUswer towered above and behind this Bregantan host
which faced and barred them, supported by massed vassal warriors from the
Carfetau, Paurisa and Gabrantoficau. Archers from Seganta and the fierce
viper-warriors of the Coritanau made up this colourful alliance of Breged, who
faced the vast twin-host now approaching from the north to the thunder of
thousands of hooves.
The Royals, Gŵyrd, nobles and all the werrin present would
take with them to the grave, the unforgettable sight of the three greatest
Kings of Northern Prydein as they embraced warmly on the lush grass of this
vale, surrounded by a cheering multitude. Even as all knew the true and holy
alliance would not be made official or sanctified until tomorrow, everyone who
witnessed it knew beyond doubt too that this was where the real alliance had
been forged, on the lumpen turf of Fro Uswer and in front of their tear-filled
eyes.
The historic meeting of the Kings Ederus, Cridas and Bellnor
would be sung by Bards and cantorion for ever and re-told by all storytellers
of the future. Every Prydeinig descendant of these people would know of these
momentous and portentous events, until the very end of days. There was a clear
accord and mutual regard between these Kings of Kings, demonstrated by the
combined triad of their raised royal hands and the rugged, smiling faces of each
monarch. The pandemonium which followed this emotional meeting was like a rush
of rolling thunder.
The sheer joy of this union was deeply felt by all and the
celebrations were ecstatic, as people released their feelings of savage joy,
with whoops and joyous yells as they danced. The lowing sound of the bronze Carnyx
filled the air once more and drummers began to hammer their elk-skins in a
frantic cacophony so loved by these people. As a mist-laden dusk descended
slowly to the plain of Uswer like a thick woollen blanket, a quietness settled
softly on these people too, as peace and harmony was enjoyed by every single
person there and all the assembled Gods seemed contented.
The Deities of Prydein arrayed themselves behind the revered
dark God of the Underworld himself now risen; Arglwydd Lug Ddu, whose black
mantle matched the stygian feathers of the raven on his shoulder, as he looked
down on this host awaiting his impending honour and Lughnas; his own coming day
of celebration.
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